"The Sundry Scribbler - Part 5: Conclusion"

                               The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler
                                                                  
                                            Part 5: Conclusion

                                                        By

                                              Joseph Adorno



 Sherlock's face gave off an expression that I've seen before on many occasions: it's his contemplative stare. He makes this face whenever he is offered to take on a case. The outcome is always unpredictable.

 "No, thank you," he replied to Blake.

 "Oh?" was Blake's response.

 "Yes. Oh yes. If I did not believe the matter to be in capable hands, I would have stirred into action, but oh no, Blake, you are far more capable than myself. You have read of my work; there is little to suggest that i make a habit of venturing outside feats of pure ratiocination, for that is where my true powers lie."

 "I know, Holmes - 'ghosts need not apply' - as you once boldly put. Still - I invite your input. Would you care to wager how this will play out?"

 Holmes smiled and reached into the pocket of his coat. He drew out his notepad and pencil. "Of course! I will write down a solution gathered from what I have learned today and only today. You may look at it now or - as I would prefer - lock it away until afterward to see how right I was." He tore off a page and handed it to Blake, who motioned to Blyth, who took the note from him and placed it discreetly in the reminds of a battered writing desk drawer.

 Blake faced Sherlock. "Mr. Holmes, it was a pleasure meeting you today. I hope someday we will encounter a perplexing problem that complements both of  our distinctive powers without compromising each other's dignity."

 Holmes scoffed at that remark. "That's nonsense, Blake, and we both know it. Though I do wonder if you might benefit from a talk with my brother Mycroft, who is knowledgeable in the affairs of Mr. Plummer and Mr. Ling. I doubt you would be surprised. I'll contact him if you wish to meet him."

 "No, thank you," he replied to Holmes. "I already know."


                                                                        ***

 We were settled back in our chairs at 221B, which felt odd in the sense that we had already glimpsed how it would look if an incendiary device exploded within it.

 "Holmes, what did you mean by 'I already know'? Why didn't you accompany Mr. Blake in preventing such an incredible theft?"

 Holmes struck a match and lit his pipe. "I couldn't reveal much in front of Mr. Blyth - I'm sure Blake trusts him, but he is practicing the same avocation as you, Watson - chronicling his friend's cases. Besides, the theft should carry on as Mycroft intended."

 I could not believe this revelation. "Holmes! Explain!"

 "Things are not as they seem, old friend. The disappearance of Westin Pall may seen like a faraway memory, but he is actually a known informer of George Plummer, who also works for Dr. Ferraro - another enemy of Sexton Blake. With a list of enemies as long as Blake's, it should come as no surprise that he would take such precautions to heighten his awareness. Pall's disappearance brought to light the fact that this caper must proceed as Mycroft coordinated it.

 "Dr. Ferraro and Prince Wu Ling are upstarts in London's underworld - they are attempting to keep the remnants of two distinct empires from evaporating - Professor Moriarty's and Dr. Fu Manchu. If they can be controlled into wasting their efforts on seemingly gainful ventures, then both organizations will be effectively dissolved beneath their noses."

 I spat at the mention of the letters in front of that last name. "If that devil is a doctor of any sort, then I am Colonel Blimp!!"

Holmes raised his hands. "Remain at ease - all is well. It is in Mycroft's best interests that Blake believe that Plummer is one of his arch foes, when in fact he is an agent of her majesty's new organized Secret Service. His acts of corruption allow him an established reputation and gain him access in places that even my best disguises would not allow me to enter."

"But what about Mr. Blake's vile siblings?"

"Oh, the threat from them is very real, but not as a deep organizing power - they're wild cards. Plummer has been doing his best to keep them on a short leash with the lure of the massive payoff in this caper."

 "But does this mean the diamonds and rubies are safe?"

 He nodded reassuringly. "Just as the handover was done beforehand, so was the exchange. Blake's involvement will prevent the theft from occurring - and from all the parties involved to realize that they were executing the theft of wade-made faux gemstones if they had succeeded. The fallout from that reveal cannot happen - the consequences would be monstrous."

 "So Blake is a pawn in this matter? I doubt he would enjoy his talents being wasted in such a way."

 "Sexton Blake possesses the same deductive powers as myself - it is only his love of adventure that leads him into farragoes that would bruise the dignity of someone with more pride."

 "Like yourself?"

 He smiled. "You have yet to ask what I wrote on that paper I handed to Blake."

 "That's right? What sort of note could you have written without tipping his hand if he opened it before giving chase?"

 "Two words. The name of the company involved in the gemstone exchange, which Mycroft created as a new base for his organization - Universal Exports."


                                            The End

"The Sundry Scribbler - Part 4"

                                              The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler

                                                                        Part 4

                                                                          By

                                                                Joseph Adorno


 We lay on the crumpled ruins on the ground floor for about an hour, before awakening with a loud and stern "Ahem".

 It was stout elderly woman dressed in a dark overcoat.

 "Mrs. Teague," Sexton Blake observed. "We must apologize for the mess we've m-,"

 "Mess! Mess! Another mess - the last mess! You can clean it all up yourselves!!" She tossed an envelope at him. "I quit - effective immediately!!" She stormed off. Blake reached for the envelope and removed a pince-nez from the pocket of his vest. It was caked with sawdust. He made an attempt to blow off the dust and read her notice.

 "That's unfortunate," he sighed. "She knew how to make Crab Rangoon the way I like it - that's the kind of experience that comes from a cook who travels abroad; she's the wife of a retired sea captain who lives in Jamaica." He began slapping dust off his shirt and pants. "Very well. Tinker, is it time for us to head off?"

 Tinker - that is, Mr. Blyth, though I'm not sure why he would let himself be regarded with a child's nickname - was in a daze, eventually settling his gaze at the ruins of a badly-beaten grandfather clock, its hands pointing at 6 and 2.

 "We do, sir. The gala is about to begin in an hour."

 "Excellent. We'll make a quick change of clothes at one of my spider-holes and then head off."

 Holmes coughed a cloud of dust. "Gala? Am I to believe that you are the 'expert' hired by the Rajah's court to manage security for the handover with the Sultan this evening?"

 Blake grinned. "That is correct. I initially took the job regardless of its social standing, but my interest has been piqued by the rumored involvement of my brothers, Henry and Nigel."

 "The Blakes," I gasped. "What a vile and ghastly pair!" I bit my lip when I realized who I was keeping company with.

 "It's alright, Doctor," assured Blake. "I'm sorry to say that I'm the ... black sheep of the family. But I also detected rumors that they're in league with Wu Ling and George Plummer of Scotland Yard."

 Holmes raised an eyebrow at the mention of that last name. Plummer is a Detective Sergeant - as corrupt as Inspector Lestrade was not, they had never crossed paths before (and it was possible that Plummer arranged to avoid doing so), but Holmes often wondered when the day would come when he would have to actually work with such a monster.

 He asked Blake a question. "You believe that this teaming of villains involves the trade of the Rajah's diamond mine for the Sultan's ruby mine?"

 "Yes. The Rajah of Pookajee holds a floating court - his ruby mines are exhausted, but his diamond mine is plentiful. The reverse is true for the Sultan of Lugash. The tradeoff has already been made, but the formal ceremony will involve the handover of 300 million pounds each in rubies and diamonds."

 Holmes paused. "The location of this handover gala was not advertised in great detail."

 Blake nodded. "Only 'in London'."

 "Yet, the danger of Plummer's rumored involvement infers that the underworld is well aware."

 "Unfortunately, the location chosen would have informed the underworld regardless."

 "A well-respected, luxury hotel in a neighborhood of ill refute."

 "Precisely."

 "The Jade Lotus."

 "You are the Master."

 "In Limehouse."

 "You are cordially invited to join us. As you once said, 'the game is afoot'."


To be continued...

"The Sundry Scribbler, part 3"

                                 The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler

                                                            By

                                                   Joseph Adorno

                                                         Part 3


I was well aware of who Sexton Blake was. Although I have never before included his name within these narratives, his exploits are often mentioned by Holmes as an example of what he accuses me of trying to do with my accounts of his cases. Whereas Holmes developed a fussy particularity in choosing his clients, Blake welcomed anything that came his way: lost cats, stolen dress pattern designs, no case big or small. But now, as a I stared at this man, now engaged in a combative form of martial art stance as he searched a study that had been decorated identical to ours, I began to wonder if I should consider if his all-inclusive workload implied he was mad.

"Holmes, would you care to..", I whispered.

"Of course, Watson," he whispered back. "Mister Blake is engaging in Tae Kwan Doe, a Korean style of self-defense attack, which he appears quite deft at. I wouldn't hesitate to infer - based on the facts presented - that his associate Mr. Blyth and 'Tinker' are the same man. Mr. Blake has ordered Mr. Blyth to prepare a trap for him in his house."

"That's madness, Holmes!"

He smiled. "Actually, that's ingenious, Watson! I'm well-read in Blake's exploits to deduce that he is a functioning paranoid - he is often in fear of his life and must be absolutely prepared whenever and wherever for the slightest chance that any of his enemies - some of whom are closer to him than Mr. Blyth, ironically - may strike when he lets up for a fraction of a second! I'm envious!"

Blake turned to face us after a long and dedicated search. "You may come in, Gentlemen. Feel free to sit anywhere you'd like. I was hoping you'd visit someday to appraise my decor." He began to settle down into an armchair.

Holmes stared at the chair as his eyes popped in horror. "Blake! The chair!!"

"What?" answered Blake. He turned his head back quick enough to catch his chair shift to his left on its own. I could not believe my own eyes, but the two brilliant men before me saw the same phantasm. Blake acted fast. He pressed and poked his fingers against the chair at various points for a half-minute before a low groan was uttered. The chair make a bizarre noise - as if a series of locks from within were being unbolted. A shape slumped out from behind the chair and lay in a crumpled heap.

Blake clapped at the crumpled heap. "Bravo, Tinker! That was very clever of you,  but you've forgotten that this particular disguise leaves the occupant vulnerable to physical assault - in this case, on all the pressure points."

Holmes clapped in amusement and I joined in with the applause. 'Tinker', as Mr. Blyth lets himself be called, slowly stood up and bowed. And then he raised both of his arms and pounced at Blake like a hungry tiger and all hell broke loose. The two men wrestled together in a violent tango that ended with the pair colliding with a couch and somersaulting into the air...landing on a workbench displaying an active chemistry lab. There was a catastrophic crash, with broken wooden and splinters flying, bottles and beakers and vials of fiery chemicals spilling onto the floor, the chemicals themselves mixing together, coagulating into a boiling, bubbling mass that seeming to burn and dissolve into the surface...

"Stop fighting, you fools!!" Holmes shouted. "The floor is disintegrating!...run Watson!!"

A sinkhole appeared within the study and swallowed up the furniture, Blake, Tinker, Holmes and myself. We were helplessly riding the descent on the overturned couch as we crashed down onto the first floor - the maid's quarters...

To be continued...

"The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler - Part 2"

                                The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler

                                                           Part 2

                                                             by

                                                   Joseph Adorno


The door leading into 221A had been left ajar. Holmes and I, no strangers to eerie surroundings, had our wits about us.

"Stay sharp, Watson. I fear our neighbor has had a busy night."

We tiptoed quietly, making silent gestures to each other as a muted commentary on how remarkably uncanny was 221A's resemblance to 221B.

"I wonder if Mr. Blyth has his own Mrs. Hudson ready to take our coats."

He stifled a laugh. "This could actually be a grave matter." Then he stifled another laugh. "Let's head up the stairs."

Holmes abandoned his tiptoe and deliberately marched up in a military stomp - St. George awakening the dragon from his slumber, as he once explained to me. Upon approaching the familiar door to a familiar floor in lodgings that were familiar, yet so unfamiliar, he stopped and pointed toward it.

"Notice," he whispered. Another door ajar. Either Mr. Blyth does not believe in keys - or we are walking into a mousetrap."

"But Holmes, this visit was unannounced! He couldn't possibly - "

"You're right. But his friend could. Stay behind me, Watson."

He gingerly pushed the door open. From our perspective, it appeared as if we had not travelled anywhere. We were staring at Holmes' study. But it was not.

"Remember  221A at all costs, Watson. This could be a very dangerous game."

"Of course it is," replied a voice from behind, coming from behind a potted plant by the door. "But it is one for which only I was invited to play."

The man behind the voice slowly stood up to greet us, but only discreetly. he shook Holmes' hand. "It is an honor to have you and good doctor here."

"Ah. We must apologize for intruding."

Our host waved his hand at Holmes. "No, no. 'Quite all right, 'Quite all right. I think you're in for a show. Tinker has a new card to play this evening."  He then shifted his body into an attack stance and proceeded to enter the study. "Stay there," he advised.

I tried to protest, but Holmes held me back. "Easy, Watson. We are only spectators in the world's stage."

"But Holmes! Mr. Blyth is walking into a trap!"

He smiled. "Who said that was Mr. Blyth? No, no - Mr. Blyth is actually quite safe, for he designed this trap for gracious host, who is about to enter. that man is Sexton Blake."

To Be Continued...

"The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler", Part 1

If Sherlock Holmes was a real person, he would have celebrated his birthday on January 6th. Fans ("Sherlockians" or "Holmesians", whichever you prefer) claim he was born in 1854. This year, he is 159 years old.

There is an easy way to celebrate (I just did that) and an interesting way...


                                   The Adventure of The Sundry Scribbler
                                                     By Joseph Adorno
                                                             Part One

 It was another gray day in London. Sherlock Holmes decided to spend the afternoon refilling the Persian slipper he hung by the fireplace with a supply of fresh tobacco...and looking over my shoulder, to my irritation.

 "Actually, Watson, these are very good. You needn't bother with crafting a draft and just let the editor have it." He held up my notebook and pointed to a page. "Make sure Doyle does not change a single word."

 "Holmes, I will warn you that any talk will permit me to bring up your own efforts as well, like that business with the soldier with leprosy. Or when you let Mycroft write up that attempt on your life by Count Silvius."

 "Ah, touche! Forgive me, John, but are you really surprised? It's nothing I haven't remarked before."

 Holmes had taken a liking to reading my notes on his cases and ignoring the published accounts altogether. It is no secret that he complained, over and over, that my approach veered toward the melodramatic and tacky. My notes offer no narrative - in the very least, I take some consolation in the fact that he has not ordered me to cease and desist my efforts.

 "Holmes, you're showering me with praise on work equal to the daily toil of schoolchildren!"

 He laughed. "Come now, Watson, if I were truly patronizing, I would have suggested that I had compared your work to a sampling from one of the irregulars! No, I do find an art to these scribblings. For example, this page I've highlighted marks an item of interest sandwiched hours later between two facts established hours earlier. This deduction is erroneous, but the thought process is very revealing and entertaining."

 "I was simply recalling how the broken mousetrap was found in Mr. Pall's study and that was Inspector Jones' summation, not mine."

"Well, Jones' summation was sandwiched between the factual observance that Weston Pall lived at his manor house in squalor, surrounded by stacks of books and penny dreadfuls piled on top of furniture. The deduction has intimations that the mousetrap will reveal the true solution to Pall's disappearance, but we know that was not true."

 "Of course! We're only a third of the way into the problem! The audience needs to be entertained while they wait for you to show your hand."

 "You're setting it up as a miraculous leap in the dark, when it was all fairly commonplace. Just because my caseload has become repetitive doesn't mean you have a right to bait them that way. I'm going to ask Mr. Blyth to consider a crack at the Pall disappearance and compare the results with yours."

 "Who is this 'Blyth'?" I asked.

 He smiled again. "Mr. Harry Blyth. He's our new neighbor - 221A. He claims to be a writer, like yourself, but whereas writing is your avocation, it is his vocation, full-time. I suppose...you wish to meet him?"

 "Of course!"

To Be Continued...

The Nifty 9 of 2012

It's time for a list of the Nifty 9 - reading material you can find in a better-than-o.k. comic shop that premiered this year:

(In no particular order...)

1.  Jim Henson's Tale of Sand:   I found out about this book after it won the Will Eisner Award for Best Original Graphic Novel. This GN, an adaptation of an unproduced screenplay written by Henson and Jerry Juhl, is a psychedelic romp through Monument Valley in which an average everyman tries to match wits with his better-prepared, urbane doppelganger while on a quest to "follow the map", have a cigarette, win the woman of his dreams, dodge the mad sheik's army, stay out of the director's shot, be the town hero and cross the dessert while heeding the warning:  "don't trust the map."

2. Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye #1: the quick-changing robots get the Justice League International treatment, beginning with this issue. Those of you only familiar with these characters (yes, characters) via the Michael Bay films will experience shell shock.

3. Case Closed - Volume #42: this manga series about a teen detective who turns into a kid detective and has to slowly solve the mystery of the clandestine organization behind his transformation, has been going strong for over 15 years, even if any hope for futher episodes of the anime spin-off being brought over to the USA seems unlikely. Anyway, this is the one - the volume I would recommend to someone who would be curious to try it. It's got some strong arcs and characterization, along with appearances and revelations from the semi-recurring characters that tend to pop in and out.

4. Doctor Who - Shada: this was the best read of the summer. Gareth Roberts had to rise to the challenge of cobbling together every draft, fragment and scribble of Douglas Adams aborted Doctor Who epic and reshape it into a proper full-length novel. Well, he did it. He really, really did it. My only question is: What will you do for an encore, Gareth? ... it just so happens that Tom Baker had written a script for a DW film that would have featured Vincent Price as the villain - titled Doctor Who Meets Scratchman, the film was almost put into production before the financing fell apart. When I had asked him on Twitter about it, Roberts reply was, "Good Idea." ...

5. The Secret History of D.B. Cooper: Oni published this series that offered a fanciful look into the life of that mysterious skyjacker whose fate has never been solved. The artwork is very Mike Mignola/Darwyn Cooke-ish, right down to the red gummi bear sidekick.

6. Idolized #0: From Michael Turner's Aspen MLT. The special premiere #0 issue of this comic starts off well. It's about the winner of a reality show in which super-powered wannabes compete for a rookie spot in an established team, The Powered Protectors, but there are hints that the protagonist is going to be their bad penny. BTW, this series is also notable for being the only comic book series I can remember that offered variant photo covers (in which they get a model to pose in costume as the lead character) that weren't bikini pin-ups in disguise. Vampirella, Glory, Ally Kat, The 10th Muse - all cheesecake.

7. Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye, #5: this standout issue is the conclusion to a medical mystery (yes, robots solving medical mysteries!) featuring fan-favorite Ratchet, is very entertaining, with an ending that's a laugh riot. There's a good reason the title of this chapter is not revealed until the last page...spoilers. ;)

8. Burt Ward, Boy Wonder:  the problem with small press companies is that you never know if the premiere issue is the only issue, or in this case, a sneak peek offered on Free Comic Book Day. This was supposed to be a spin-off of a popular series of their hit Misadventures of Adam West series, in which Sir Adam West gets involved in different kinds of adventures in different genres (usually nods to gigs-that-might-have-been, like playing James Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service or a Western film without the Three Stooges or a serious Caped Crusader and even appearing as Indiana Jones or The Mad Hatter). Here, Ward gets his own turn. First we get an update of his life right now - running a non-profit animal rescue shelter and walking two amiable pooches around the location of the batcave from the 60s Batman TV series. Then we see him chase a mysterious masked man (looking suspiciously like The Red Hood) into said cave,with the dogs tagging along. Just as John Carter wound-up whisked into Mars,  Ward and  the dogs wind up on another planet. It sounded like a fun adventure - we'll have to wait and see if and when it resumes. An ad featuring a spin-off series about Julie Newmar was also solicited, but has not appeared on stands yet.

9. League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - Century, Part 3: 2009: And this is the one to recommend to everyone - be it the folks who are curious try it or the ones who found past installments inaccessible, and not just because they'll get the references to 30 Rock, Burn Notice, Lost, Heroes, 24, Centurions, Emma Peel, Mary Poppins, Harry Potter, Children in Need, The Dark is Rising and Wizards of Waverly Place - this is the best comic book of the year. 'Nuff said. 'Nuff said.

So there you have it - a Nifty 9 bon-bons from 2012. I'll see you in 2013. :)

In The Spirit For An Xmas Wedding

I had to jump out of the passenger side of Nick's car and land feet first in front of the courthouse steps as it hovered near a fire hydrant.

"Thanks for the lift. Central isn't exactly across the street from the carrier."

He laughed and gave me a thumbs up. "No problem. I'm sure Eb would've gotten you here even quicker - Duggan tells me that cab has booster rockets! And tell Colt the job is still open if he wants it!" He shut the door and took off as I rushed in.

***

The Groom was staring into a mirror in the Commissioner's office, adjusting his mask. I knocked on the door. He saw me through the mirror's reflection.

"The door's open!"

"Hi Denny. You're not wearing your black suit?"

"I don't wear a black suit."

"Right, right. So anyway, I'm glad I made it here in time to be the best man and all, filling in for Eb and such. Where's Sam and Blub?"

His mask secure, he began readjusting his tie. He must have been nervous. "Sam's on a new case with Tracy's kid, Junior - and he talked Eb into coming along...a trio of investigators...sheesh. And Blub is with the Curry's in Alaska, fighting winter zombies. By the way, Eb left his cab behind to serve as our chariot - you'll have to drive it, so that's three jobs I've got for you."

"Three?"

"Yeah - Dolan's doing the ceremony after we caught Mr. Carrion posing as Judge Kitchen. You'll need to give away the bride."

"Busy day?"

He smiled. "Eh..it's looking up. It looked like the bride would be late, but it turned out she found where we left the gown on her own and sent the message to Dolan through one of the bailiffs." Finished, he took one last look at himself. "..and something blue."

***

I couldn't see the bride under the heavy veil, but the gown was beautiful. It also had a very long train that I almost tripped over when I walked around from behind to take her hand.

The organist began to play the wedding march. As we slowly walked up the room, I took stock of how they decorated the area with loads of Christmas and Wedding-themed decor: pink bouquets, a white cake, a Christmas tree, a table full of gifts (I'm glad I remembered to bring something, although most of the gift boxes were the same size as what I had brought with me - a dreadful thought popped into my head)... Dolan stood at the center, with Denny to his left. I wonder what Dolan was going to say? Or did the Bride and Groom have vows prepared?

There were even two of Santa's helpers - though they looked kind of seedy: the first one was acting as an usher and didn't even fill out his suit; the second was slumped in a chair at a far corner with his gloved hands wrapped around a bottle of rot gut on his lap. He was out for the day.

I also took notice of the crowds in attendance: Family, friends and acquaintances of the Dolan family appeared on the Bride's side...the Groom's side was made up entirely of cops and crooks - the crooks in handcuffs, of course. Among that lot I recognized Satin, Wang, Boil, Cossack, Hussein, Lox, Carrion, Paris, Julia, Sand, P'Gell ... I think someones missing..

And then I almost tripped again! "I've got you," the Bride whispered. She did have a very good grip.

"Yeah, thanks," I whispered back.

And then she kept on whispering. She was talking to herself. "I've got you this time, Gainsborough, in front of everyone, now. There'll be no more cat-and-mouse games from here on."

Her grip was getting tighter, that's when I looked at her hand and notice the gloves she was wearing. They were purple with stripes on the back...purple, purple, purple...

***

It turned out this was going to be a very short ceremony. Neither side had anything to say and Dolan seemed keener on re-lighting his pipe.

"I left my matchbook in my desk, so if the Groom wouldn't mind putting the ring on her and getting on with it, so I can consider you kids married already.."

"Sure, sure, of course." Denny nervously nodded. His hands were shaking fierce as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket ... and then became eerily clam as he smiled while he revealed a pair of handcuffs and slapped them on the wrists of his bride!

"Sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I've got cold feet to go with your cold hands." He lifted the veil. The face was familiar: white and blue complexion, with matching blue hair and makeup. Actually, there are three or four nasty women fitting that description, so I waited for Denny to say it. This event was cooling up.

"Louise Lincoln, it's been a pleasure." He reached inside his jacket again. "I believe you were looking for these?" He held up a set of gold wedding bands that revealed inscriptions that glowed and became legible when held up to the light. "The Tibetan Yeti Bands - believed to grant unknown power to the bearer of the ring, if I recall the legend correctly. I just thought they'd make good bait when I had this event advertised in the papers."

"What did she do to Ellen?" I asked.

Dolan laughed. "Who? Seriously, this event was advertised as the wedding of Thomas Gainsborough, here. There was no mention of the bride's name."

The purple gloves on Louise's hand began to change. First they began turning into a paler shade, then they formed a heavy coat of frost before crystallizing and shattering, exposing Lousie's free hands. Her handcuffs become useless when she froze them, breaking them off as well. She then froze Denny, Dolan and myself  and grabbed the bands off Denny's palm with ease. All we could do was watch.

"Just because the wedding's off doesn't mean the bride is obligated to give back the rings, Gainsborough! Watch this bride run away!" She turned and began to make her exit. All the crooks seated in the groom's aisle were cheering her, but didn't dare cross her path.

That's when Santa stepped in. "Where's your Christmas spirit? Is that why you're so blue?" He then grabbed the train of her gown and began to spin like a top, forming a tornado that reeled her in. She began using her powers to fight back, but the end result backfired.

Santa took off his suit and revealed another red suit, one with a familiar lightning bolt symbol stamped across his chest.

"Just when I thought I was going to have to pull one of my old tricks and dash for a present, Louise shows up to help me make a gift: an ice sculpture!"

He raced forward and used his powers to thaw out the three of us - generating heat by offering the ultimate pat-down. It would've been very awkward if it lasted longer than 2.5 seconds.

Denny thanked him by admiring his handiwork with Louise - currently serving as a wedding gown tornado preserved in her own ice. "What a pity we'll have to arrest this one and put it in the fridge right away. You do good work, Wally."

"Thanks. I love spending the holidays back home in Central. By the way, those gloves she was wearing..."

I jumped in. "I can answer that one. Those gloves are a big deal this year. I brought a set for you as a gag. And I noticed that drunk Santa wore a pair as well."

Denny's eyes widened. "Santa?" He turned to the corner. There was only an empty chair where the fat man once sat.

Denny looked a bit forlorn. "I missed him...Santa was here...and I missed him."

Wally tried to cheer him up. "Y'know, it might not be who you think it is...I mean, Bats' wore purple gloves, too."


The End